


Make the Wine, Drink the Cup

by foxwedding



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, Breaking and Entering, Drinking, Gen, Recreational Drug Use, Theft, implied sex work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxwedding/pseuds/foxwedding
Summary: The two most morally ambiguous siblings of the academy tear through the city at night AND/OR Five recruits Klaus to help him track down a suitcase, unbeknownst to the rest of their siblings.A duel character study about how these two might operate together.Diverted-apocalypse AU, sober Klaus





	Make the Wine, Drink the Cup

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Electric Light Orchestra's Evil Woman.
> 
> I love the idea that Five thrives on anarchy, while Klaus thrives on night life, with or without the drugs.

Five was kneeling before a pair of polished oak doors, fiddling with a paperclip lodged inside the ornate antique lock. Klaus was serving lookout, perched on the porch stairs, a lollypop bulging in one cheek.

"Soooo, we're looking for the briefcase?" Klaus asked without glancing back. Their presence was partially obscured by a few large rhododendrons in the front garden.

"No," Five huffed, and Klaus heard the sound of the metal fixture jiggling in its setting. "I was here two nights ago. It's not on the premise. We're looking for papers- financial documents, something that would tell us where else it might be."

Klaus leaned back on his hands, bouncing one knee. He looked up doubtfully at the large, turn-of-the-century manor. He wasn't entirely sure how they were going to unearth a specific document amongst a building that spanned a fourth of a city block. Still, Five was the man with the plan, and Klaus had nothing else planned for the night. 

There was a huff of satisfaction followed by the sound of the heavy door swinging on its hinges. Klaus rolled his head to stretch his neck before following Five into the dark house. The foyer was spectacle of marble tiling and crystal chandeliers. There was a large oil portrait over one fireplace: A man standing behind a seated woman. Judging by the dress, it looked like it'd been commissioned in the seventies. Klaus walked over to inspect it.

"Hmmm. Donald and Shirley Carrington." He read out from the brass name plate. "Sound waspy as fuck."

"Yeah, that's the guy. They're both dead." Five was rummaging through the drawers in several parlor tables. "Son has everything now. Or the grandson. Unclear."

"The grandson has the suitcase?" Everything about Five's life was baffling to Klaus.

"Don't know. Donny was hired as an independent contractor for my former employer. Now that he's dead, they'll be coming to retrieve the case."

"So, we're looking for the grandson?"

"Possibly." Five muttered. He pointed up a staircase to the second floor. "Go look through the bedrooms."

Klaus grumbled around his lollypop and acquiesced.

He half-heartedly pawed through the contents of a couple bedside drawers in the first room he came upon, before deciding to roam the hallways for greener pastures. He found himself in a powder room attached to a master bedroom. The wallpaper was pink and floral. There was a mirrored vanity in one corner, a chaise lounge in the other. Klaus walked the perimeter of the room, humming to himself, picking up framed photos and setting them back carefully.

"Shirley, Shirley, Shirley. Lovely name. This must've been your boudoir," He muttered into empty air. "What do you think? You wanna help a guy out?"

There was a pair of white French doors that folded open to neat rows of pressed, hanging dresses. Below this, heeled pumps were lined up by color and function. Immediately, Klaus was shucking off his thread-bare pants and a ruffled, paisley number from the 60s. He pulled the lollipop from his mouth, pursing his lips at his options in consideration. The majority of the pieces looked tailored and fitted at the waist. He shook his head. These working conditions were abysmal. He lifted a shapeless silk slip dress from a far hanger and wrangled the black fabric over his head. It fell loosely on his shoulders, though he did enjoy the lace detail on the décolletage. 

He prayed the vanity would be better stocked. There was a collection of perfume bottles and cosmetic cases stacked in front of the mirrors. He spritzed a bit from the glass with the lowest perfume level, figuring this was Shirley's signature. The scent was overly floral, and the drops were heavy in the air.

"Talk to me, Shirley."

Nothing. Klaus crunched through the core of his lollypop, wincing when sharp sugar fragments scraped at the roof of his mouth. He sighed and examined several tubes of lip color, selecting a dark plum and leaning towards the mirror to apply it. A tiny chill racked his spine. Sure enough, when he sat back, he saw there was a woman standing listlessly behind him. They made eye contact in the mirror.

"What do you think, Shirley? Is this my color?" He puckered his lips and winked at himself. Holy shit, this _was_ his color.

Shirley didn't respond. She looked to be in her fifties, maybe older but aged well. Even the grey overtone of death couldn't obscure the fact that she'd been an attractive woman. She didn't seem particularly enthused to communicate with Klaus.

"Oh, come on," Klaus tried his most winning smile. No dice. "How about a tune?" He continued, standing and walking over to a shelve of LPs. He flipped through them rapidly.

"Let's see. You look like a… James Brown girl?" Klaus glanced sideways at Shirley, then clucked his tongue and frowned. "No, no- ELO? Yes, there it is."

He flipped it out and settled it onto the record player, nodding his head to an orchestral opening. Unwrapping a new lollypop and snapping his finger to the tempo, Klaus walked back to the closet.

"Let's see about some dancing shoes, huh Shirley?" He frowned down at the selection. Nothing looked remotely close to his size. Still, he stepped into a pair of open-backed heels and twirled around with flourish. There was barest shadow, the tiniest beginnings of smile on Shirley's lips. The minute progress was warm in Klaus's chest.

"Check these moves out- you ever do any of these? Learned them while I was stationed." Klaus swayed his hips and bowed his head in the same manner he'd seen Dave do back in Nam. The song was anachronistic for the dance, but Klaus figured it was all close enough. Across from him, the ring finger of Shirley's right hand twitched with the beat. Klaus smiled, and transitioned into a clumsy attempt at a boogaloo, followed by an inexpert twist. He twirled a ring around Shirley, as if they were dancing a duet despite her refusal to participate.

"I'm sorry, what's this?" Five's voice interrupted. Klaus glanced over. His brother was standing in the open doorway, his expression as if dancing in drag to disco with a dead woman was the strangest thing he'd ever seen Klaus do. Which, Klaus knew for a fact, it was not.

"I know, right? My legs look fantastic in this getup." Klaus grinned at the way Five was studiously avoiding making eye contact with Shirley.

"Papers, Klaus," Five emphasized, slapping one hand into the open palm of the other. "Fi. Nan. Cial. Documents. I didn't bring you along so that you could flounce around like an asshole."

Klaus scoffed, shaking his head at Shirley as if they were commiserating over Five. Shirley appeared thoroughly indifferent.

"No, you brought me along 'cause I'm the only one who wouldn't try and stop you." Klaus countered, pointing his index finger at his brother.

"That's not actually the same thing as helping me right now, Klaus." Five was getting testy. Klaus could tell by the set of his jaw.

"I was just getting around to that if you'd let me." Klaus replied, loftily. He turned to Shirley.

"Shirley, darling. Forgive my baby brother," Klaus saw Five twitch out of the corner of his eye. "Do you happen to know where your esteemed late husband kept his, uh, records?"

Shirley didn't bat an eye, which wasn't all that shocking since ghosts didn't need to blink. For a moment, Klaus thought he'd have to sweet-talk her, but then she began to lumber, slowly, towards the door. As she turned, Klaus saw that the back of her head was, in fact, entirely gone. The concave surface was a mess of greying viscera. _Yikes_. Klaus hissed through his teeth but followed, stepping out of the shoes and flipping off the light as they exited. Five leapt out of her pathway and fell into step with him.

"If you'd just told me you were going to conjure her, I wouldn't have bothered with the rest of the house!" Five hissed at him.

"I wasn't sure if I'd be able to! It's all about the mindset- I really need to get in their shoes, ya know? Really just connect-"

"Bullshit," Five cut him off. "You found a room full of women's clothing and decided to help yourself- I know Alison's locking her closet now to keep you out."

"It's not like she's going to ever wear them again!" Klaus gesticulated wildly to the woman ahead of them.

"Is that a tube of lipstick?" Five frowned at one of Klaus's hands, currently holding an unwrapped lollypop and pilfered cosmetic.

"Okay, but look at this color on me," Klaus pursed his lips at Five, fluttering his eyelashes. "I think this shit is French- where am I ever going to find it in this city?" He thought Five was being entirely unreasonable given the circumstances.

Shirley lead them down an adjoining hallway.

"You understand you cannot just steal shit from this house, right? That's gonna get us caught when someone comes home."

"You're being extremely homophobic right now. Transphobic? Either. Both." Klaus replied flippantly. This was usually his trump card when it came to getting what he wanted with his siblings. Unfortunately, it never worked on Five.

"Wrong. I'm attacking your moral character. Your sexual and gender identities are merely amusing irrelevancies. It's not homophobic to call you a thief when you are, in fact, stealing." The words were delivered in the deadpan of an individual who had this sort of argument all too frequently.

Damn.

"Alright, you got me there," Klaus conceded. "But what if I told you Shirley gave it to me?"

"Did she?" Five glanced at him expectantly.

"Well, no. But I think she would have."

They were now in a spacious office, shelves of leather bound books from floor to ceiling. There was a taxidermied bear head overlooking a massive cherry wood desk, it's mouth curled upwards into a snarl. The room reminded Klaus of their father's study.

Five jogged around to desk, checking its drawers, frowning at a locked compartment near the bottom drawer. He gave it a couple hard tugs, before running a hand through his hair, and then rummaging through the various papers and fountains pens arranged neatly atop the desk.

"We need a key, Klaus. Look for one. It's gotta be in this room."

Klaus frowned and folded his arms across his chest. This was all becoming quite boring.

"Shirley, seeing as how you're never going to wear all your makeup again-," Klaus began. But Shirley wasn't listening. She was shuffling towards the back of the room, gesturing slowly up at the bear's head.

"Oh wait. Five." Klaus caught his brother's attention and nodded towards where Shirley was standing.

Immediately, his brother was dragging the ornate wing-backed chair over, climbing on top of its seat, and thrusting his fingers into the open mouth of the bear. Klaus wrinkled his nose in disgust when Five fished out a dusty silver key.

"Thanks, Shirley," Five acknowledged, before hopping down and returning the chair to its original location.

The locked drawer popped open easily, revealing several faded manila envelopes stacked neatly within. Five grabbed them greedily, unfolding the paper covers to inspect the contents of each. Finally, he set one heavy envelope apart, and placed the rest back into the drawer.

"Okay, got what I need. Let's get the fuck out of here." As if to underscore the necessity of this statement, the sound of the front door opening reverberated through the spacious hallways. Klaus made quick eye contact with Five. The later didn't seem alarmed, just supremely irritated.

"Fuck, the housekeeper. There's a servant's door down in the kitchens." He whispered, nodding at Klaus to indicate that he should follow. Klaus glanced quickly around the room, frowning when he discovered that Shirley was gone. Nevertheless, he crept after Five, who seemed to be able to navigate the hallways flawlessly despite the darkness.

It was unexpectedly simple to slip out of the manor without detection. The servant's door opened to a stone pathway that wrapped around the property and deposited them into the street. From there, they walked to the nearest bodega to grab coffees and, in Klaus's case, tootsie roll pops.

Five was leafing through a few sheets of legalese, sipping his coffee, muttering to himself. 

"Klaus, do you know a Black Hare bar? I think the son's laundering through it." Five was squinting down at several lines of numbers.

"Mmmm," Klaus blew across the top of coffee to cool it. "Sure do. It's a speakeasy off of fourth and main."

"Great. Let's go."

Klaus shivered as a breeze caught the inner edge of his slip, and he reached smooth it down before freezing. The slip. _His clothing._

"Oh shit. Fuck. Five. My clothes. They're still in that room." Klaus exhaled in a rush.

Five frowned. "What? What do you mean? Didn't you come in that?" He gestured up and down Klaus's body.

"No! It's- why would I come in this?" He threw back incredulously. "Did you seriously not noticed I'd changed?"

"Why would I notice that, Klaus?" Five's eyes were wide, tinged wildly. "You constantly dress like an idiot! You think I can tell one idiot outfit from another?"

Klaus frowned down at the slip. "I think I look nice, asshole." He bit out.

Five shut his eyes for three full seconds. He looked like a was trying to control his inhales and exhales. The muscles in his jaw jumped several times. Klaus grimaced.

"Okay." he gritted out in a controlled tone. "Okay, the room didn't look like it gets a lot of foot traffic. Chances are, no one is going to step foot in that room tonight. We'll swing back around after this, sneak in, grab the clothes."

Klaus nodded his headed quickly in agreement. Shit, now he was committed to seeing the whole night through with Five.

He watched as his brother downed the rest of his Styrofoam cup and tossed it into some nearby bushes. Then, he walked to the edge of the sidewalk and flagged down a taxi. Klaus checked the time on the car's dashboard as they slid into the backseat. Just before nine. The city was lines of dazzling light as they moved into the downtown district. Klaus watched as block after beloved block of his city rushed past. He'd been high or drunk on every square inch of this goddamn town.

He nudged Five's shoulders.

"We should get off at this next block." Klaus pointed past the next light signal.

Five nodded and relayed this to the driver.

They stepped out in front of large corporate thrift store, its lights bathing the sidewalk in obnoxious fluorescence. 

"Give me three minutes," Klaus instructed Five, who looked like he was about to scream. "No one's gonna let me in like this," he gestured to his bare feet.

Klaus strode through the aisles with upmost confidence. He selected a pair of battered lace-up boots and tugged them on. Then, he swung down an adjacent aisle, pulling a vermillion faux fur coat of its hanger. Without pausing in his step, he shrugged into it and continued right back through the front doors. Not a single apathetic employee glanced once at him.

Five looked profoundly unimpressed as Klaus emerged.

"All right, now we can continue," Klaus announced, tugging the price tag off of the coat sleeve and shoving a handful of tootsie pops and the lipstick into a front pocket. He reached for the inner lining of the left breast, tearing a rip between the silk and the fur, wide enough to slide the manila envelope inside. He grabbed the papers from Five's clutch and slid them in. They lay flat and unnoticeable against his chest. Five nodded, evidently now impressed.

Klaus lead them to a plain black door situated between a convenience store and a psychic's parlor. It was utterly average, safe for the small brass knocker in the shape of a leaping rabbit. This early in the night there was no bouncer, so Klaus simply turned the doorknob and entered, ushering Five in quickly. Once inside, there was a long, wallpapered hallway ending in two staircases: one lead down to the bar, the other lead upwards and was roped off with an 'employees only' sign.

They ducked under the rope easily and scuttled upstairs on quick feet. The second floor consisted of an office, bathroom, and spacious coat closet stuffed with employee bags. The office was nice but sparsely decorated- an ornate rug, several filing cabinets, a cracked leather chair in front small desk, a similarly cracked leather couch with a bar cart next to it. 

Five immediately got to work on the filing cabinets while Klaus reapplied his lipstick in the bathroom mirror. Having completed this, he threw himself into the leather chair and perched his feet up onto the desk. After a long while, Five swore and slammed the final file drawer shut, apparently having found nothing. Almost immediately thereafter came the sound of feet ascending the stairs. A man around Klaus's age entered, dressed in the sort of douche-y, dandy getup that was so popular for bartenders nowadays. 

"Oh good," Klaus leaned forward in his seat. "We're looking for the owner. You know whereabouts we could find him?" 

The man blinked several times in bewilderment, rotating halfway to the stairs and back again, as if as unsure of whether or not to get help.

"Uh, Danny? He's at Bump and Grind," The man hedged. _Shit_ , Klaus thought. Their night just doubled in length.

"Yes, yes. We know that. Where is it tonight?" Klaus twirled a hand in the air, playing at impatience.

"Fuck, no idea. Not my scene." The man was shaking his head. "Can you- are you allowed to be in here? Especially him-," he pointed at Five.

Klaus adopted an expression of true offence. "Yes, of course! Danny and I- this is our son." He glowered at the stranger as if daring him to contradict. "I'm sorry, why are _you_ up here?"

The man's face flushed, confusion and indigence warring on his face.

"Please," Klaus held out a hand. "Leave us."

"I'm clocking out-" he started and then evidently gave up, turning and departing back down the stairs.

"Ah fuck," Klaus groaned up at the ceiling when the footfalls were out of earshot.

"What?" Five asked. "What's 'Bump and Grind'?"

"An event, switches locations every weekend. We're gonna have to track down where it's being held tonight."

Five slumped into a deep leather couch. "For fuck's sake. I thought this would be more straightforward." He ran a hand through his hair. There was a collection of various amber alcohols in cut-crystal decanters on the bar cart. He reached for a smaller one, uncapped and sniffed it, before shrugging and pulling straight from the decanter. Klaus was envious.

"Okay, well, there's a way we can track it down. But, you may find it… morally distasteful." Klaus bit at one nail and spit out the sliver.

"I'm not Luther, I couldn't give less of a shit." Five's tone was utterly blasé.

"Oh." Klaus was pleasantly taken aback. "Okay." He glanced back at his brother. "Let's go downstairs."

They situated themselves in darker corner of bar, Five crouched behind a large, potted fiddle leaf fig. Klaus leaned against it around the other side, facing out towards the bar.

"Alright," Klaus began, hands in the pockets of his coat. "First, I'm gonna need to get us some cash." He glanced back at his brother, who waved him off, and took another long pull from the decanter.

"Take it easy, yeah?" Klaus raised his eyebrows meaningfully before heading to the bar. 

He ordered a seltzer and ice, though it killed him to do so. He returned back to his perch by the plant, shrugging half of his coat down so that one bare shoulder and the thin strap of the slip were exposed. 

"Alright," he directed this backwards at Five, who was still hidden. "Give it a half-hour."

Five snorted. "You're awfully presumptuous. You really think someone's gonna bite?"

"Well," Klaus began, taking a sip of seltzer through the tiny black straw. "No one's ever _not_ bitten." That shut Five up immediately. 

Sure enough, within twenty minutes, an older man was sauntering over. He looked to be in his late fifties, impeccably dressed, his clothing all pressed wool and silk. Too nicely dressed to be law. Klaus gave him a half smile, his eyes lidded, making the lines of relaxed and inviting.

"Can I buy you another drink?" The man asked smoothly, his own hand wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey, neat. Klaus eyed his gold wedding band.

"Oh, thanks but no," Klaus shook his head, "I don't drink when I'm on the job." He winked, making his meaning as clear as possible.

The man's eyebrows raised with interest and looked up and down the length of Klaus's body.

"Smart boy." He chuckled and took a small sip of his drink. "What's the going rate to party?"

"One fifty for the hour. _Up front_." Klaus tilted his head and took another sip of his seltzer, watching the man nod in agreement. "You gotta room?"

"Sure do." The man grinned, flipping out two one-hundred-dollar bills from a silver money clip, giving them over underhand. 

Klaus took them, sliding them discretely into the pocket of his coat. He nodded his head towards the bar. "You'd better go grab your coat and close out," his voice was a purr, designed to redirect the man's attention. 

As soon as he'd turned to do just that, Klaus reached back, tugged Five up with a firm grip on his upper arm, and dragged them out through the kitchens opposite the bar.

"Come on, come on." He hissed at Five.

"Jesus, okay!" Five pulled his arm free as they walked quickly through the kitchen, ignoring frowns of confusion from several line cooks. They exited out into the alley behind the bar, the asphalt littered with trash, spill over from nearby dumpsters.

"Taxi," Klaus directed, and Five nodded. They headed towards a main street, waving down a cab while walking away from the front entrance of the Black Hare. Just in case. A moment later they were sliding onto warm, imitation leather seats. Klaus leaned forwards to the driver.

"Two stops, my man. Twenty-first and Pine. Then Forty-first and eighth." The dashboard digital clock indicated that it was approaching midnight. The driver nodded and once again they were moving fluidly through the lights of the city. Klaus sat back and sighed.

Next to him, Five took a small sip from the decanter and glanced back at him.

"Hey," his brother was frowning, biting at his bottom lip. "Do you, uh, do that a lot?" 

Klaus frowned, momentarily confused, before realizing what Five was asking.

"Oh. Um, not anymore. I used to. There were some, uh, rough times after I left the academy." He tried to deliver this as gently as possible. It was something he'd more or less come to terms with, but he knew most of his family hadn't been aware at the time. Five's frown deepened.

"Five," Klaus started, wanting to comfort his brother, but not knowing the right words. "It's not really, like, a big thing. Our whole lives we were taught to serve others with our bodies- and that was one particular way to do it. It's just the one people don't want to talk about."

Something in that statement must have been the correct thing to say, because Five's shoulders lowered, and he huffed an incredulous laugh.

"You know, you got on my case about the lipstick, but look at you now, liar." Klaus nodded towards the decanter.

"I don't give a shit about the lipstick, Klaus. I do, however, give a shit about getting caught."

"You think that wouldn't get us caught? That shit is cut crystal."

"Oh no, I think this absolutely could've gotten us caught. It's just that I really wanted it." Five clarified. 

Klaus shook his head and unwrapped a new tootsie pop.

The driver slowed to a halt at their first stop. 

"Stay in the car," he directed Five. To the driver: "Keep the meter going. I'll be right back."

Klaus exited into the cold night air and flitted across the busy street to a taco truck on the opposite corner. 

"Hugo!" He grinned breathlessly into the ordering window. "Got an eight-ball tonight?"

The man behind the counter nodded indifferently, rummaging in the compartment above the window. Klaus handed him one of the one-hundred-dollar bills he'd received earlier and came away with a small, clear bag of white powder in his palm.

"Always a pleasure, Hugo," Klaus blew him a kiss and sprinted back to the taxi. 

"Alright, we're good to go," He informed the driver, while sliding back into his seat.

Across from him, Five looked furious. 

"Are you fucking serious, right now?" His voice was low and dangerous.

"Fucking relax. It's not for me. Scout's honor." He held up his right hand as if to underscore the promise.

"Oh really, it's not for you?" Five's eyes were narrowed, and his tone was like acid. Klaus felt himself rile up in defensive indigence. He leaned closer to his brother, getting in his face.

"No, pipsqueak. It's not. This is gonna buy us Danny-boy's location."

At their next stop, Klaus pushed the second one-hundred-dollar bill into the driver's face and scrambled out of the car. They were in front of a large nightclub, people spilling out onto the sidewalks and streets. 

"Stay on the sidewalk," He again instructed Five, before making his way to the bouncer, a big beefy man perched on a tiny steel bar chair by the door.

"Trey!" The man was already shaking his head at Klaus, moving his body to bar Klaus from entering.

"Relax, my man. I come bearing gifts." He reached into his pocket and shook the little baggie up by his eye.

"Can't let you in, Klaus," his voice was gruff and unimpressed, but his eyes tracked the bag keenly. 

"Not trying." Klaus shook his head. "Where's Bump and Grind tonight?"

Trey's eyebrows rose up into his nonexistent hairline. "Damn. I used to come to you for that."

Klaus nodded sagely. "And now the student becomes the teacher."

He reached for the bag and Klaus pulled it back disapprovingly. He rolled his eyes.

"Backroom at Tar and Feather." 

Klaus nodded and gave over the reward. For a brief moment, his body wouldn't let his hand release it, it felt like giving away his first born. He sighed and patted the man's cheek. This is had been astoundingly easy- he'd caught the guy on a good night.

"You take care of yourself, now."

He turned around and was startled by Five standing right behind him.

"Why aren't you allowed in?" He nodded to the building.

Klaus pushed at Five's shoulder, moving them away from the club.

"I had, uh, relations with the owner's boyfriend. And then the owner's wife."

"Jesus." Five's tone was disgusted, but his expression suggested he was impressed.

Next, they hopped four blocks over and shouldered their way into Tar and Feather. Well, Klaus shouldered his way in. Five just jumped from the sidewalk to a space beside the bar. Klaus dragged them both towards an unmarked, unguarded door behind the staircase. It opened into a surprising spacious room with exposed brick, dim lighting, and about fifteen people doing lines on the couch right beyond the door.

Klaus was taken aback. He knew one of these men.

"DC?" Oh, _Danny Carrington_ , he realized. Small world. The man was lounged back into the cushions, his feet propped up on a very familiar black briefcase. Klaus watched as Five's attention zeroed in on it.

"Klaus! Baby!" The man in question grinned up at him with delight. "It's been a bit, huh?" His gazed settled upon Five with dazed concern.

"Holy shit, Klaus, tell me you're not fucking this kid."

"Get fucked, I'm fifty-eight." That was Five.

"What? No! What is wrong with you- this is my brother!" That was Klaus, feeling like he was going to hurl.

Danny looked at Five doubtfully. "This is the one that beats up all your ex-boyfriends?"

Klaus shook his head. "No, that's our other brother."

Five turned to him in surprise. "Diego beats up all your ex-boyfriends?"

"Yeah, and also sometimes my current ones. You know he struggles with expressing his love."

Five rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that must be it."

"So, what the fuck is up, guys?" Danny asked, his pupils were blown wide and his smile was lopsided, presumably because his entire face was numb at this point.

"Oh, right," Five seemingly remembering his objective, before reaching into the waistband of his trousers and unearthing a semiautomatic. There was a collective gasp of panic as the occupants of the couch jolted back from the offending item. He could see people farther back in the room turning to pay attention as this information spread out like a ripple.

"What the fuck, Five?" Klaus was genuinely flabbergasted. "Have you been carrying that the whole night?"

"It's called planning ahead, Klaus. You wouldn't understand." He turned to Danny.

"Listen, Daniel. That briefcase?" He gestured with the gun at the man's feet. "I'm taking that."

Danny appeared to only just now understand the new tone of the room. He blinked several times in quick succession.

"It's not mine," he was shaking his head. "Belonged to my granddaddy. Someone's meeting me later tonight to buy it."

"Yeah, that's me. Except I'm just gonna take it." Five had a manic glint in his gaze that had Klaus's gut sinking. There was movement outside of the doors, the sounds of scuffling and grunting. It sounded like-

"Is that Diego?" Klaus frowned at the doors.

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah." Five responded, eyes still trained on Danny. "I called him from a payphone fifteen minutes ago. I thought this might get out of hand."

Klaus looked at Five in disbelief. " _You're_ the one that pulled a gun on everyone! _You're_ the one that's gotten out of hand!"

"What difference does it make, Klaus?" Five spat back.

The door busted open, slamming into the adjacent wall and leaving a dented nick in the wallpaper. Klaus winced. Diego stood in the open doorway, foot still half way in the air, one hand already reaching into his holster for a knife. He paused at the scene, visibly reassessing his expectations.

"Jesus, Five! You said someone had a gun- you didn't say it was you." Diego wiped a hand down his face.

"Hey, Di," Klaus waved sheepishly.

"Ohhhh, _this_ is the brother. Yep, I can see it now." That was Danny, before leaning over and inhaling one long line of coke. The other occupants of the room looked on at the scene, eyes wide in uncertain fear and confusion.

"Shut. Up." Five gritted back, waving the gun and stumbling to catch his weight as he swayed. Several people flinched back.

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Knock it off, Five. You're drunk."

"You've been letting him drink?" Diego tone was accusing. 

_"Let me?"_ Five shouted indignantly. "I'm fifty-fucking-eight, you useless assholes!"

Klaus held up his hands, glaring at Diego as if to say, 'See what I'm dealing with?' Lollypops weren't gonna to cut it any longer. He needed to get his hands back on some cigarettes.

"He has his dead grandfather's briefcase. I'm taking it," Five enunciated as if he was communicating with morons.

Diego frowned. "Why? He's using it for what? Something nefarious?"

Five shook his head. "No, I have no proof of that. I just don't want him to have it."

"What." Klaus could feel his pulse spiking. "You had us hauling ass all over the city because you wanted someone else's toy?"

Diego threw two hands up in defeat.

"Look," Danny began. He was tilting his head back, pinching the bridge of nose, blood peeking out at the nostrils. "You're all kinda stressing me out. If you'll get the fuck outta here, I'll give you the goddamn briefcase. I can't fucking open it anyways."

"Oh! Well then, I guess this has resolved itself," Five surmised pleasantly. With nimble fingers he snatched the briefcase up.

As the three of them departed, Five turned around to address Danny. His expression was somewhat absent but solemn. "I'm sorry for your loss," he announced, before vomiting into an empty ice bucket.

Klaus followed up: "Also, your employees think you're gay, and I think your grandma may have been murdered."

\------------------------------------------------

It was approaching dawn by the time Diego had violently ushered them into his car.

Five collapsed sideways in the back, arms hugging the briefcase, and Klaus slid into the passenger seat.

"Alright, we're gonna have to make a quick pit stop before we get home," he informed Diego, who clenched both his jaw and his hands around the steering wheel.

"It's the Carrington manor down on the west side."

"Why?" Diego bit out.

"We broke in earlier. Five needed what- financial documents?"

"Wasn't sure how everything would go down," Five chimed in drunkenly. "Needed something incentivizing."

Klaus frowned. "What, like blackmail?"

Five hiccupped. "Those are your words, not mine."

"Yeah, anyways, I left all my clothes there," Klaus finished. 

In the driver's seat, Diego lowered his forehead to rest on the wheel. Klaus gave him a minute.

Later, as Klaus was snatching back his clothes, he whispered into the empty room, "I'm keeping the lipstick and the dress. Thanks, Shirley." There was no response.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are king, y'all.
> 
> Per usual, here's my writing playlist (ie. here's a handful of songs if you wanna get real weird with your night)
> 
> _Evil Woman- 2012 Version_ \- Electric Light Orchestra  
>  _IV. Sweatpants_ \- Childish Gambino  
>  _We Share Our Mothers' Health_ \- The Knife  
>  _Run_ \- IAMTHEKIDYOUKNOWWHATIMEAN  
>  _Serial 5_ \- Nekromongers  
>  _(Don't Fear) The Reaper_ \- Kelly Shelly in Athens
> 
> (TUA Make... on spotify)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
